Darkness Lost
by Spirit the Fire Dragon
Summary: On a moonless night, a mysterious child appears on Skyloft. That child is left with no family and a foreign name—Ghirahim. As he grows, he is only friends with the daydreaming knight-in-training, Link. Then Link commences his journey as the Chosen Hero and Ghirahim decides to tag along. Will they find answers to Ghirahim's existence and birthplace beneath the clouds?
1. Chapter 1

Darkness Lost

By: Spirit the Fire Dragon

_O' wicked owl, perfidious fowl, most foul malignant wraith,_

_Symbolic, bleak purveyor of the rift in righteous faith, _

_Thy virtue shed like dew from wings in predatory flight,_

_Thy feathers void of dark to taunt the anguish of the night…_

Darkness Lost by Robert G. Shubinski

* * *

There was no moon in the sky that night.

The night the world changed, there was no moon. The sky was a thick, all-consuming black, swallowing the stars and the sapping the wind dry; even the imposing, protective statue watching over the small airborne town could not pierce the veil of the malignant night.

The hero of legend's destiny was beginning to unravel, as was that of the spirit maiden, who had been born mere hours before sunset. No one could predict the outcome of that dark night, or even how it would impact the oh-so carefully laid plans that had been put into motion centuries before.

For on that dark night, the one without a moon, there was a flash of pale white light before the watchful statue's feet and slowly dissipated like wisps of a snuffed flame; this tiny light, which no one noticed, changed the course of history and the destinies of so many.

Beneath the statue, a tiny bundle lay swathed in soft white blankets. The tiny bundle barely moved throughout the imposing night. But that night could not live eternally, as the sun—the mightiest of the heaven's warriors—rose and vanquishes the moonless night, and shed light upon the quiet town and on the alien bundle. A young resident of the town took a stroll up to pray at the feet of the statue the next morning and spotted the stark white bundle. As she stole towards it, thinking it her roaming Remlit, she stopped short as she noticed the blankets.

The young woman knelt and shifted the blankets and gasped at what she found. Two tiny fists, a tiny pale nose, and two, wide black eyes stared up at her, unwavering. The face was too angled, too sharp, to be a true babe's face. She lifted up the tiny child and stroked her finger over the tiny black diamond imprinted on his cheek and twisted her fingers through the head full of stark white hair.

She pulled down the blankets that were tucked firmly around his tiny body and gasped at the fresh red cuts that left droplets of scarlet blood stained on the blanket. The cuts were brutal but superficial, slashed across his breast, but the tiny child seemed unfazed.

It was then the young woman noticed a tiny slip of parchment that was pinned to the soft cloth. She gently tugged the paper off and read the inscribed words with care.

_My name is Ghirahim. I am in need of a safe home. I have no family to raise me._

Far away, on a lush floating rock, a cold, lifeless black egg that had lain there for several centuries started to shake and twitch. The shell broke into several pieces and a slimy, black feathered bird flopped to the ground and squalled loudly. Another bird, who had hatched a mere day before, stumbled over to the chick and snuggled close, its fluffed downy crimson feathers warming and cleaning the tiny black bird.

Another piece of a destiny unknown to the Goddess fit itself into a nearly complete puzzle that night. A wild card played into a finished game.

And the people of Skyloft, even that young woman who found the tiny Ghirahim, never knew how that baby appeared or even why. Ghirahim became the mystery of Skyloft, an impossible child.

But Ghirahim wouldn't be alone in a room in the Academy, without parents to care for him. Link, a healthy boy, was left without parents when his father was struck down by a mysterious illness and his mother in childbirth. The two boys, who were assumed to be the same age, were placed together to support each other in their journey through life without any parents of their own.

And so the destiny that was planned for centuries was altered and refined at the last moment. Ghirahim forced himself into the destiny in a completely different path than the one planned for him.

* * *

"LINK! LINK, WAKE UP!" The shout was shockingly close to his ear and Link was in the throes of a nightmare including a giant black monster with a gaping mouth that devoured his friend, Zelda. He shouted and jerked upwards and found himself staring at the annoyed face of his friend.

Ghirahim did not look pleased, but then again, he rarely ever did.

"What?" Link gasped, rubbing his ringing ear.

"You slept in, stupid!" Ghirahim snapped. "The Wing Ceremony is in twenty minutes and I know _She_ commanded you to see her beforehand."

_She_ was obviously Zelda. Ghirahim didn't like her—he didn't like much of anyone besides Link, and even then it was on a good day/bad day basis—in fact, he only tolerated her because of her close friendship to Link.

Link's eyes brightened. "Oh, that's right!"

Ghirahim rolled his eyes and tossed a pair of clean pants at his face. "Get dressed," he ordered. "You don't have time to doddle this morning. Even if you didn't have to meet _Her_, you'd still have a hard time getting ready in time for the Ceremony."

Link just smiled and pulled off his pajama pants without hesitation and pulled on the clean pair Ghirahim had thrown at him. Neither felt embarrassed as he stripped. What was changing their clothes in front of the other when they had shared baths when they were little, splashing and laughing and washing the other's hair?

Link hopped on one foot as he pulled his boot on and grinned a bit at his stony faced friend. Ghirahim was tall for his age, much taller than Link, even taller than Groose, with his white hair pinned away from his face to bare the black diamond under his left eye. His shirt was loose and low cut, tied off with strips of red cloth below his elbows and the sleeves slightly puffed. His pants were baggy and tied with similar red strips of cloth at the knees so that his calves were bare. He walked barefoot with only cloth tied around the balls of his feet and his heels.

"Want to come with?" Link asked, a bit breathlessly, as he tied the red cloth around his middle.

Ghirahim sneered. "And see _Her_ willingly? No thanks, I'll practice."

Link smiled, not at all stung by his snarky tone. "Like you even need to practice, Ghira."

Ghirahim was probably the most accomplished flyer Skyloft had ever seen. He rode with ease, though it had taken him years and years to gather the courage to even ride his bird; he had had a strange phobia of flying before Link bargained for his friend to fly with him on his own bird so he could at least see the joy of flying. Now, in his teens, Ghirahim had practiced through many nights (and got caught on several occasions) to build his confidence and his expertise, and now he was thought to be one of the most intricate and skillful fliers in the sky. His professors could teach him nothing on the technique to ride a Loftwing. Even Link on his Crimson Loftwing couldn't beat Ghirahim on his Black Loftwing when they were racing. Ghirahim's talent could have been his ticket to knighthood two years ago, but for one reason or the other he bailed on the Wing Ceremonies or got disqualified.

Ghirahim grinned but didn't respond.

Link straightened and headed towards his door. "Come on, Ghira."

The two left, and didn't notice when a blue Loftwing stuck its head through the tiny window in his room and spat a letter onto his bed.

It would lay there, unopened, for many hours.

* * *

They parted at the Bazaar, and Ghirahim sauntered off towards a platform so he could fly around a bit before the Wing Ceremony. The other people of Skyloft glanced at the tall teenager and gave him a wide berth; Ghirahim was now better known for his volatile temper than for the mystery surrounding his existence.

Link hurried up towards the Statue of the Goddess, pausing when he heard Zelda's voice raised in song, a pretty, haunting melody that he recognized as her favorite. He listened for a while before Zelda noticed him, and she excitedly showed him her new outfit—she had actually made it herself!—and her instrument, which turned out to be a harp. Link more or less zoned out after that, feeling a bit puzzled at the missing presence of his Loftwing.

"That's just it, father," Zelda was saying to the Headmaster, who had arrived moments before. "I don't think Link is prepared for the Wing Ceremony! He's barely practiced and when he is, he's just lazily flying around, like he's in a day dream!"

Link winced and felt his cheeks flush when he heard that.

"Now, now, Zelda," the Headmaster soothed. "You should have confidence in Link, I've never seen a connection like Link and his bird." He paused, and then amended, "Besides Ghirahim and his bird, but then again, Ghirahim has made many exceptions. Trust him, Zelda, dear. He will do fine."

Link wasn't listening, however, and in hindsight he really should have been, seeing as it was an argument about how he rarely listened, but he was staring up at the sky, looking for both a black bird and his own crimson Loftwing. He saw neither, and that worried him.

"Well, Link's going to squeeze in some extra practice before the ceremony!" Zelda declared, and Link gasped as he was dragged off by the elbow towards the nearby platform. "You promised, Link!"

Link stumbled to the edge, throwing out his arms and turning rapidly around to try and tell Zelda that he couldn't sense his bird—

"Uh huh," Zelda said, not believing a word of his rapid explanation. "You can't "sense your bird", huh? You just don't want to practice. You're not getting out of it this time!" And with that, Link felt her push his shoulders hard and he cried out as he went flying off the platform.

The wind stole the breath from his lungs, and he tumbled over before sticking in his fingers in his mouth and whistling with the little air he had left. He looked around, his heart beating fast, hoping desperately that he was wrong, that his Loftwing would swoop under him—

Link knew after a dreadful few seconds after the whistle that his bird was not coming. His heart rate doubled, tripled even, and he let loose a scream. He threw his arms out and felt himself turn and tumble in mid air, trying to slow himself down, hoping that if he looked like he was flailing that the rescue knights would see it fit to rescue him before he plunged to his death.

He thought he glimpsed Zelda's blue Loftwing diving towards him, but they weren't close enough to catch him before he fell below the cloud barrier. He sucked in his breath and felt tears streak randomly across his face from the stinging wind hitting his wide open eyes. He gasped and felt fear.

Link opened his eyes at the sound of a shout, and then his body was slammed into another's with the force of a diving Loftwing. His limbs no longer felt weightless; they felt more like thick pieces of iron pipes. He felt an arm wrap firmly around him as the bird beneath him turned upwards and began an easy ascent with the remaining speed from the dive.

"I've got you," a deep, gruff voice said in Link's ear, over the wind.

Link would have thanked him, if he could talk. He actually didn't think he could walk at the moment, if he had the chance. His breathing was quick, dangerously slow, tearing at his throat and making his chest burn.

"Stupid girl," the voice continued, mumbling more to itself than to him, but Link didn't care and he clung to his friend's body with all he had in him. He was in an awkward position, kind of riding sidesaddle on the black Loftwing and nearly sitting on Ghirahim's lap, with his arms around his neck and Ghirahim's arm tightly wrapped around his chest.

Ghirahim squeezed his knees and his bird eased over Skyloft, where Link had fallen, and banked to his right before spiraling lazily down to the ground, where the Headmaster stood. Link tightened his hold as Ghirahim's bird landed, and only released it when Ghirahim helped him down to the ground. Link tried to take a step away from his friend's Loftwing, so the other could get off, but the moment his hand left the cold black feathers his knees gave out and he fell to the ground like a ragdoll, on his hands and knees.

His breaths came in ragged gasps as he tried to slow his heart. His arms were shaking and the fear was still racing through his veins. He felt a firm hand press between his shoulder blades and start rubbing circles there in a very comforting gesture. Link would have smiled up at Ghirahim if he wasn't shaking so badly.

"Link!" Zelda's cry rang over the small courtyard as her Loftwing landed. She had obviously tried to fly to his rescue, but Ghirahim had gotten there first. "Link, oh Goddess, are you alright?"

She obviously tried to rush over to him, but Ghirahim's sharp, "Stay back, you stupid girl!" halted her in her tracks, and for once, Link was grateful. He didn't want Zelda fussing over him in that moment—he had felt absolute fear from his fall, and he didn't think he could have tolerated her hands all over him.

"Do you realize what you've done?" Ghirahim continued ruthlessly. "Link could have _died!_ How could you have been so foolish as to push him? Haven't you learned _anything _in the Academy? Is this how you treat all of your friends? _Pushing them off the damn platforms? _How dare—"

"Ghirahim." Link's voice was soft in volume but firm in tone, and it cut Ghirahim off. The ranting Skyloftian glared at the girl who was nearly in tears before him but didn't continue, no matter how badly he wanted to. He had learned to trust Link when it came to social situations like this; when his temper got too out of hand Link was the only one who could reel him back in.

"Look, I'm fine," Link continued as he straightened up and rocked back on his heels. He smiled tiredly at both of his friends. "I just had a bit of a fright, that's all."

Ghirahim glared and almost retorted, but Zelda cut him off. "I'm so sorry! I should have believed you when you said you didn't sense your bird! Link, I'm so sorry!"

Link waved her off, not rudely, but obviously trying to stem her apologies that were unneeded in his opinion. "Zelda," he said firmly, "I'm fine." He stood up, and mumbled thanks when Ghirahim offered his arm to use as leverage to get to his feet.

"This is unheard of," the Headmaster said softly. "A bird not coming to its master's call? I've never heard of this occurring before, Link…"

"He must be hurt," Ghirahim said, still holding onto Link's arm, almost protectively. "Or trapped somewhere. There's no other explanation."

The Headmaster nodded. "Yes, I agree. We must set out for a search party right away."

"I'll go," Zelda offered immediately. "I can fly around and see if I can spot him on the other islands too."

The Headmaster nodded. "I'll tell Professor Owlan to delay the ceremony if needs be."

Link nodded thankfully, both to the Headmaster and a bit because the feeling was returning to his legs. He offered Ghirahim a small smile and said, "Come on, Ghira," and started towards the stairs to bring him to the bazaar. Ghirahim sent off his bird with soft pat, glared once more at Zelda and jogged after Link.

They started off their search by asking a few people in the bazaar, but they found little success there. Ghirahim and Link then went off to the Academy, where they enlisted Pipit to help their search and found Fledge's stuttering rather suspicious. Before Ghirahim could threaten the poor teenager, Link pulled him bodily away and they started towards the plaza in hopes of better findings.

Ghirahim sulked as they walked, but stopped Link by tugging on his arm when they saw two familiar cronies and a ridiculous red hairdo.

"…bad that we couldn't catch that black one," Groose was saying as they approached. "Wouldn't get close enough, that damn thing. But at least we got the Crimson one, eh, boys?"

"He really did put up a fight," agreed Cawlin.

Groose laughed stupidly. "Yeah, but he was nothing compared to me," he said.

"Care to explain what we just heard?" Link interrupted, rather politely considering his situation.

Groose jumped around and his cronies backed off fearfully at the sight of the tall, white haired boy standing at Link's side. Groose's face had an equal combination of fear and anger on his face. The fear was mostly directed towards Ghirahim, the anger towards Link.

"Explain what?" Groose scoffed loudly, his bulbous eyes glaring at Link but straying to Ghirahim's stony face. He continued off the topic, "Word around town is that your bird got lost. His tiny brain probably couldn't handle the amount of clouds out today. Got lost on the way here, dontcha think?"

"Just tell me where he is," Link said firmly.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Groose lied, scoffing at the same time.

Ghirahim looked bored as he examined his nails and finally spoke up. "Just because you think you're the toughest guy around here doesn't mean it's actually true, and it certainly doesn't mean we believe the lies you spew from your mouth like vomit."

Groose gaped unbelievingly at the taller boy and retorted, "Shut it, diamond boy!"

"Original," Ghirahim said sarcastically. His face became angrier as he let the façade drop. "Tell where you hid Link's Loftwing and I won't have to make you regret ever setting eyes on Crimson."

Groose looked uneasy but continued in a gruff voice, "and how do you plan to do that, huh? Go crying to mom about how I'm so mean?" His face broke out in a sadistic grin. "Oh, that's right, you don't have one! Where is she, anyways? Leave you here and jump off the edge?"

Link had to physically restrain Ghirahim from tearing Groose apart right then and there, and even when he did Ghirahim was able to take two full steps towards his adversary with his fists clenched and eyes alight with fury. Groose yelped and threw himself back.

"Ghirahim, it's not worth it!" Link cried. "Ghirahim, seriously! You can't get disqualified today!"

Ghirahim practically hissed Groose, his narrow black eyes never leaving his frightened face as he made some ridiculous comeback and jumped off the platform and flew away.

Link didn't dare release him even then, because he knew Ghirahim could call his bird and chase after them in an instant if he gave him the chance. "Come on, Ghira," he said softly. "Let's go back up to the Statue and see where we can go from there."

Ghirahim let himself be pulled away, glowering and his fists still clenched even as they walked. Though he had had his fair share of violence and bullying throughout his life, whenever someone brought up the topic of his nonexistent family was when the worst would come out of him. It was his weakness, though he tried to hide it, but it was impossible when it was one of the things he was known for. Link was the only person he would ever discuss his family with, and it was vice versa for Link as well.

"Link, Ghirahim!" Both of them turned to see Pipit waving them towards him, where he had Fledge cornered against the Sparring Hall. "Come over here!"

Ghirahim glanced at Link, still glowering, but his face said "I told you so" before he nimbly jumped over the edge of the walkway they were on and landed in the courtyard below. Link sighed and followed, having to roll when he landed. Ghirahim was already advancing on Fledge, who looked like he might wet himself.

Link hurried up to them and he heard Pipit explain to Ghirahim, "I asked Fledge here if he knew anything about Link's Loftwing, and he started acting weird." Pipit turned to Fledge and said, rather firmly, "Tell them what you told me."

Fledge looked pleadingly at Link and fearfully at Ghirahim, who looked rather murderous. Well, more so than usual.

"I'm sorry, Link," he said. "I didn't want to lie to you, but Groose said if I told you he'd make sure I could never ride a bird again! I'm just not brave like you."

Link just said, "It's fine, Fledge. What do you know?"

Fledge wrung his hands. "I was cleaning the dining hall when Groose and his buddies came in, and they started talking about how they were planning to capture Ghirahim's and your Loftwing and hide them near a waterfall. I tried to sneak away, I really did, but they grabbed me and threatened me. I'm so sorry I didn't tell you right away."

Ghirahim said, rather sharply, "You're just lucky you told."

Fledge paled and actually started to shake. Link sighed and patted him on the shoulder. "Ignore him, Fledge. Thanks for your help; we wouldn't know even where to look if you didn't tell us."

The words seemed to help a little bit. Perhaps Fledge's hero worship of Link overpowered his fear of Ghirahim.

"Come on, Ghira," Link said. "There's only one waterfall, and there's a cave near there…maybe Groose hid him in there."

Ghirahim rolled his eyes and said, "That cave's infested with monsters, Link. There's no way you're going in there and coming out unharmed. Come on, we need to get swords from the Commander."

Pipit looked uneasy. "There's no chance he'll let you take a sword out of the Sparring Hall, Ghirahim. Not after last time."

Ghirahim scowled. "That wasn't my fault! That Remlit was rabid! Why does no one believe me?"

Link shifted and Pipit rubbed the back of his neck while looking skyward, and an uneasy silence fell over the group. Ghirahim scowled again and stomped towards the Sparring Hall. Pipit still looked awkward and slightly frightened. Link laughed at his expression and shook his head.

"He's harmless," Link said.

"Yeah, that's what I was thinking," Pipit murmured. "Along with the time he gave Groose a broken arm and that fifth year Knight Student two black eyes and that bite that didn't heal for a few weeks."

Link looked contemplative. "It did ooze," he agreed. He turned after a moment and ran after Ghirahim, who had already gone into the Sparring Hall. He found him wandering in front of the rack of swords while the Knight Commander looked like he was about to tear his hair out.

Link went up to the Knight Commander to explain Ghirahim's suspicious behavior. "My Loftwing was taken, sir. We found that a few guys that hid him behind the waterfall, and we need to go through the cave to get there. There are too many monsters to go through unarmed. Is it alright if we take the swords to make sure we get through safely?"

The Knight Commander seemed to calm at his words. "Oh, that's what this is, eh? I suppose I can allow it…but you can't go whacking around causing chaos, you hear? I don't want to get in trouble over this." He jerked his thumb towards Ghirahim, who was slashing a short, stubby sword through the air. "Make sure that one doesn't do anything stupid."

Link smiled. "I'll do my best," he said before going over to the sword rack and choosing his favorite almost subconsciously. He slid the strap that held the sword over his head and sheathed his sword with practiced ease. Ghirahim chose a long, thin saber and twirled the tip through the air for a few moments before clipping the sheath to his belt. He held the sword to his side.

"Let's go," Ghirahim said, striding out without so much as a nod towards the Knight Commander. Link smiled apologetically and thanked him before hurrying after his friend.

The waterfall cave was hidden by a row of thin, tall trees that fell under a few well placed slices from Ghirahim's sword. Link, with his sword at his side, ran into the cave before his friend. He could hear a far off screech of his panicking Loftwing.

The cave was dark, dank and wet. The air was musty, a sharp contrast to the warm and breezy air just outside the cave mouth. Bats were flying around the roof off the cave and dove at them when they got too close, but their attacks didn't last long. Link turned away from the carcasses of the bats that were lying on the ground. Killing the protective animals seemed too extreme, cruel even, but Ghirahim plowed on and gave no mercy.

Link sprinted up the steep slope and saw an exit in front of him. He smiled as Ghirahim came up next to him, his sword dripping blood silently onto the cave floor. Link started forward only to stop when a giant, gooey creature popped up from the ground and condensed into a strange, shapeless blob. Link hesitated.

"What is it?" he asked Ghirahim as the creature stalked back and forth, its…goo giggling strangely.

Ghirahim cocked his head. "I don't know," he said. A beat passed. "It looks harmless."

Link stepped forward and the creature suddenly charged at him and encased his legs with its strange body. Link gasped and tried to free his legs, but only managed to aggravate the creature—he cried out when he felt fangs bite into his calf. He managed to kick it off and Ghirahim lunged forward to slice it into two small halves that sunk back into the ground.

Ghirahim turned to Link as he bent down to roll up his pants and inspect his wound. It was small, with two ragged teeth marks where the creature had apparently bit into him. It was weeping lightly, and Link swiped the blood away and stood up with a crooked smile to Ghirahim. "Harmless," Link agreed cheekily.

Ghirahim scowled and followed Link out of the cave. The light initially blinded them and Link blinked rapidly as he saw Zelda fly down towards them and land easily on the grass before them.

"I heard that you two went into the cave to look for Link's Loftwing," she explained hurriedly, noticing Ghirahim's displeased expression. "I thought I could help."

"Not likely," Ghirahim muttered, not even bothering to keep his voice down. Link shot him a dark look and Ghirahim merely shrugged; he wasn't going to censor his thoughts just to spare her feelings. He didn't do that for much of anyone.

"Come on, then," Link said and they started down the slope to their left. Ghirahim loped easily next to Link, making sure to keep Link at a faster pace as to leave Zelda behind. Link stopped suddenly when he saw his beloved Crimson Loftwing in a makeshift pen before them, flapping his wings ad screeching in panic.

Link rushed forward, faster than Ghirahim expected, and immediately stuck his hand through the crisscrossed boards to calm his bird. His Loftwing calmed instantly and nudged his beak against Link's hand. Link smiled, more to himself than either of his friends, and pulled back so he could unsheathe his sword.

He went to strike the boards of wood, but Ghirahim stopped him with, "Stop! You could hurt him that way. Slice the ropes, the boards will fall."

Link nodded, seeing the logic, and quickly went to slicing the ropes holding up the boards that held his Loftwing in. Ghirahim started on the other side, making quick progress. Zelda watched, realizing that she couldn't do much of anything at the moment besides stand there.

The last board dropped and the Crimson Loftwing hesitantly came forward, and immediately stretched his wings when he had the space. Link laughed and reached up to stroke his ruffled feathers on his side. "There you are," he said, softly.

Ghirahim smiled as the Loftwing cawed loudly and took off, and he watched as Link's eyes followed him and as he ran to the edge trying to keep his eyes on him. A delighted grin was making his way onto the blonde boy's face, and Ghirahim liked it.

"He looks unharmed," Zelda said, rather suddenly. She was about to continue but then stopped, as if listening, and cocked her head towards the sky. After a few moments, she said, hesitantly, "Did either of you just hear something?"

Ghirahim turned to look at her, scowling slightly. Link tore his eyes away from the sky long enough to look at her. "No, why?" he asked, puzzled.

"I…just heard something," Zelda confessed. "I have the strangest feeling that I'm being called…summoned almost. I don't know where, but…one does wonder what lies beneath the cloud barrier, no?"

Link cocked his head, like a confused puppy. "I guess," he said. "Are you okay, though?"

"Oh, I'm fine," Zelda hurried to assure him. "I guess it's just me then, no worries. But Link, we better hurry back to the town to let them know we found your Loftwing. We can start to ceremony then!"

Ghirahim rolled his eyes and watched as Link dove off the platform and called his bird, Zelda following soon after. Ghirahim stood on the edge of the platform and whistled, then jumped up and slightly off the platform. Before he even began his descent, a black bird sped up from beneath him and caught him. Ghirahim grabbed onto his Loftwing as it soared upwards and then dove down to meet with Link and Zelda.

Link turned and waved to him, Ghirahim just smirked. Link looked so at home in the sky, on his bird, like he had been designed and born to fly. Though Ghirahim was no stranger to the sky himself, he could never match the natural grace and ease that Link flew with. Though he was a spectacular flyer in his own right, Link was meant to fly.

Ghirahim watched as Link flew through the basic maneuvers, making sure his Loftwing was unharmed. The bird was beautiful and in top condition, not even frazzled by the abduction. Ghirahim smiled and squeezed his knees, signaling his Loftwing to bank to the right with the others to go back to town.

The three of them landed in the plaza before their birds flew off, spiraling lazily around. Professor Owlan and Headmaster Gaepora were delighted at the news that Link's Loftwing was alright and unharmed. The ceremony began immediately.

* * *

Link, Ghirahim, Groose, Cawlin and Stritch lined up in front of Headmaster Gaepora and Professor Owlan. A yellow bird sat next to Owlan.

"Now we may begin the Wing Ceremony," he began. "I was worried that we may have had to start without Link, but luckily this is not the case. To complete this ceremony, you must chase this golden bird and grab the bird statue that I have attached to its leg. As it is the twenty fifth anniversary of our fine establishment, whoever wins this ceremony will complete the ritual atop the statue of the Goddess, with the young lady who was chosen to play the role of the Goddess.

"As I have heard, this young lady has crafted the gift to bestow upon the winner herself. As some of you already know, the young lady who is playing the Goddess is none other than the lovely Zelda."

Groose laughed stupidly into his hand and Ghirahim rolled his eyes, leaning on one leg and crossing his arms.

"Now, I want clean flying out there," Owlan warned, eyes trained on both Groose and Ghirahim. "No trickery. Anyone who resorts to dirty flying will have to answer to me."

"That goes double for you two!" Gaepora boomed at Ghirahim and Groose. Groose jumped backwards, alarmed, but Ghirahim rolled his eyes and sighed loudly.

"When I say so, run off this platform and mount your birds," Owlan instructed as the boys began to line up before the wide platform. He released the bird, who sped up into the sky and darted away. Owlan counted down from ten and then called, "Begin!"

Link and Groose were instantly sprinting to the edge, while Cawlin and Stritch were left to lumber after them. Ghirahim waited a few moments, amused, before taking six long strides forward and whistling before he had jumped.

His bird sped up towards him, weaving between the diving Skyloftians and caught him just as he jumped up. He was the first to mount his bird, just before Link. Ghirahim dove downwards and the race began.

As expected, Groose, Cawlin and Stritch did not play clean. Cawlin and Stritch attacked Link with eggs whenever they happened to be close enough, and Groose steered his bird into Link's whenever he got close to the free flying bird.

Ghirahim was gliding in lazy circles high above the other competitors, watching them fight for glory with a small sneer; he had no intentions of trying to win the ceremony, since he didn't really care about being knighted (it was a superfluous title, in his opinion). But when Link's victory was snatched right out from his fingers by Groose ramming his friend and making Crimson falter, he had enough of observing.

Ghirahim squeezed his knees and his Loftwing dove with almost painful speed, directed towards Groose's deep blue Loftwing. Groose didn't see the attack coming until Ghirahim was right on top of him (quite literally), buzzing slow close that the black Loftwing's feet grazed the other's pompadour. Groose cried out, nearly falling off his staggering bird—the buffeting wind from the incredible dive and thrown it off—but Ghirahim wasn't done with him yet, since Link hadn't caught the bird yet; Ghirahim banked steeply, and rushed at Groose again, this time with less speed but no less anger. This time, Ghirahim pulled his bird at just the last moment so he was parallel with Groose's, and the two birds rammed into each other. Ghirahim felt his leg get crushed momentarily, but the terrified look on the other's face was worth it.

As the black Loftwing let himself drop and level out again, Link was circling victoriously with statue in hand. Ghirahim couldn't help but smile.

* * *

The next time he would see Link, it would be falling amidst a storm wracked sky, unconscious and alone.

* * *

**Just a side-project between Bloodstained rewrites. Hope you guys enjoy, reviews are appreciated greatly! :) Apologies for any cliches, misspellings or inconsistencies, I wrote this ages ago so it was pretty far off from my current writing style. I had to revise it quite a bit, but I may have missed somethings. **

**Thanks for reading! Take my love,**

**-Spirit**


	2. Chapter 2

Nobody quite knew what happened.

The whole town was in chaos. Such a joyous day had turned into one of the darkest in Skyloft's history; a beloved young girl lost to the clouds, the new knight left unconscious from a blow to his head…for such a peaceful place, this day was an incredible blotch on its contentedness.

Ghirahim was unsure how to feel. His initial and primal instinct was fury; his instincts urged him to rage and storm and scream and maybe hit Groose in the gut for good measure. But Link was unconscious and he was the only one able to reel him in from doing such actions, and what good would screaming do when his only friend on this damned floating rock was hurt?

He was the one that had seen Link fall. He had, briefly, seen Zelda get pulled from her bird but she had fallen into the tornado before he could even think to react. But he had seen Link get tossed up and fall lifelessly through the black sky. Owlan and Horwell had acted as runners to urge everyone into their homes or the Knight Academy when the sky had begun to blacken, but naturally, Ghirahim did not listen; he found thunderstorms calming. He whistled for Shade, his Loftwing, and jumped off the edge, barely falling for a second before Shade shot between his legs and hefted him up into the sky.

The winds were sharp and buffeting and some of the worst skies that Ghirahim has ever flown in. But that did not deter him or his Loftwing, the latter of which pulled his wings tight in and dove towards Link's falling form. Crimson was diving similarly, but without Link actively trying to mount his bird, it would take a miracle for Crimson to even manage to get Link onto his back. Ghirahim reached out for his friend as they approached, and he nearly had to tip Shade on his side to fully grab onto Link and haul him onto his lap. With Link saddled precariously on his stomach over Ghirahim's legs, dead weight and insensible, Ghirahim squeezed his knees and urged Shade upwards and to their left, towards Skyloft's buffeted silhouette. Both Crimson and Azure (Link and Zelda's Loftwings, respectively) followed behind; two pinpricks of color against the black sky that blended Shade's feathers into its murky, dark background.

Ghirahim knew landing would be the most difficult in these incredible winds. He had no chance of jumping and allowing Shade to find his own sanctuary, since Link was dead weight in his arms. Moisture from his reddening eyes began to streak down his face, as the sharp wind struck his eyes and stung his cheeks. He needed to land. _Now._

Shade began a shaky descent towards the plaza, but he was shaking and jerking under the wind's power, which would let him descend only a few feet before it jerked him up twice as high. Ghirahim's legs were beginning to hurt form the strength he needed to grip his bird's ribs in order to simply stay put on his back. Shade began another attempt to land, while Azure was folding in her wings laboriously nearby, her talons on the plaza stone. Crimson was struggling just as much as Shade, but hurriedly folding his wings to plummet to the ground, to huddle and wait out this storm.

Ghirahim, through the whiplash of dirt and dark wind, saw Owlan, Horwell, and Parrow rush towards the landing Loftwings, Parrow towards Crimson to help fold the bird's wings and the former two towards Ghirahim, their robes lashing and spitting but their hands stretched out to help guide the bird to the ground. They were shouting something over the wind but Ghirahim couldn't hear over the pounding of Shade's wings.

Shade began to tuck in his wings several feet above the ground, while Owlan—the taller of the two instructors—was urging the bird to fold them in completely against the wind as he got closer to the ground. Horwell began the same process on the left wing, and with much struggle, the two instructors managed to successfully fold Shade's wings and allow the bird to hunch down and put his back to the wind on the ground.

Horwell was on the side that Link was already sliding off from, so he reached up and pulled him into his arms, carrying him bridle style as Ghirahim also slid off and briefly squeezed Shade's neck in thanks. He then rushed to Crimson's side, who was struggling heartily against the wind and smacking Owlan and Parrow in the face with his feathers as he tried to land. Ghirahim jumped up to wrap his arms around the bird's neck, adding a burden to the nearly weightless Loftwing to help him land. With his extra effort and Owlan's urging, Crimson also landed and immediately huddled down like the two other birds to wait out the storm.

With the Loftwings safe, Owlan, Ghirahim, Horwell—who carried Link in his arms—all began to rush to the Knight Academy, while Parrow ran to his home. On the ground the winds were easily as strong but easier to maneuver in, even if it kicked up dust in their eyes. Once safely in the Knight Academy, the door slamming shut behind all of them, the silence seemed incredibly and awfully deafening, while outside the wind shrieked and howled.

The rest of the students and some of the villagers stood in the foyer of the Academy, watching with wide eyes and shivering from the wind as Horwell rushed up the stairs towards Link's dormitory, the boy still in his arms. Gaepora, who was instructing the people to find a seat in the kitchens, and the students to their rooms, followed soon after Owlan and Ghirahim.

Though Owlan would look over Link and try to wake him, he would lay, unresponsive, on his bed for many hours. Ghirahim would sit at his side for those hours, as the winds howled through the night but eventually died to silence, and only after the moon rose would he fall asleep there. Ghirahim would not wake when Gaepora carried him from Link's side, fast asleep, to his own bed the next room over. He would not wake when Link woke and journeyed to the Goddess Statue to follow a strange, floating girl that inhibited a beautiful, sacred sword. He woke, instead, at the first peak of light, to find Link gone from his room and his honorary Knight clothes gone.

* * *

Link was bargaining for a lower price for a bottle full of Luv's heart potion when he was roughly turned around, hit in the stomach, and harshly embraced by a familiar white haired boy. He gasped for air from both the blow and the hug, which similarly knocked the wind from him, but he smiled nonetheless and patted his friend on the back. "Why'd you hit me?" Link complained as his friend pulled back, his face set in a harsh glare.

Ghirahim poked Link directly in the center of his chest, and despite the chainmail he wore, it was a painful prod. "Why did I _hit you?_ Oh, maybe because you nearly _died,_ then ran off in the middle of the night after being unconscious for several hours! Oh, and then, and _then,_ I get told by Gaepora—_Gaepora!—_that you're going to be _gone for some time and that I shouldn't worry!_ Damn it, Link, you should be wondering why I didn't hit you _more!"_

Link stood in silence for a moment, blinking, before he slowly smiled and said, "Sorry 'bout that, Ghira. It's just…I have something I need to do. Gaepora's right, I need to leave…and I…I have to do this alone. I'm sorry I didn't tell you I was okay, but I was kinda pressed for time."

Ghirahim frowned heavily, before he crossed his arms and said, "As if you're going alone! I don't care if the Goddess _herself_ gave you a mission, I'm not letting you go alone, and that's final."

Link rubbed the back of his neck, excused himself from Luv's stand and led Ghirahim over closer to the edge of the bazaar to speak in an undertone to his friend. "Uh, Ghirahim…the Goddess sort of _did_ give me a mission."

Ghirahim stared. A beat passed. He burst out laughing.

"No, seriously!" Link hushed. He looked around, then said even quieter than before, "I'm the Goddess' Chosen Hero! I'm supposed to journey down beneath the clouds to rescue Zelda and complete whatever quest She set for me down there."

Ghirahim was still grinning his feral smile as Link spoke, but it slowly faded when Link didn't retract his explanation. He raised his brow and gaped after a moment. "You're being serious, aren't you?"

Link nodded and looked furtively around.

Ghirahim seemed to think this over before he nodded to himself, saying, "Like I said, I'm coming with you." Link was about to protest when Ghirahim cut him off, continuing, "I _did_ say even if you had a mission from the Goddess I wouldn't not go with you. So this is me going with you. Link! Look, even if you bind me somewhere in chains I'll find a way to follow you and help. You can fight me all you want, I'm not changing my mind."

Link looked like he was going to argue before he threw up his hands and sighed. He seemed to pause for a moment and Ghirahim was sure he had heard a faint sound of tinkling bells, but he couldn't quite place it. Soon after Link shrugged helplessly and sighed, "Fine! Fine. Come on, you need a sword and some supplies if you're coming with me. Just…Ghirahim, you've got to be careful, okay? I won't forgive myself if you and Zelda both get hurt."

Ghirahim was unsure to be offended that he was grouped with Zelda or touched because Link cared for him enough to not forgive himself should Ghirahim be hurt. He settled for smug and sauntered over the Luv's stall to buy a bottle of heart potion.

* * *

"So that beam of light over there broke through the cloud barrier, to wherever Zelda is. She gave me this sailcloth that I can use to float down without having to land Crimson completely. We need to get you one, 'cause I doubt it'll do anything for the both of us. Maybe Eagus or Gaepora will give you theirs…or maybe we can fashion you one. When you get a sword, ask _nicely_ for Eagus' sailcloth, would you?"

Ghirahim rolled his eyes before nimbly running off to the Sparring Hall. He had little hope that the instructor would lend him his sailcloth, knowing all the bad blood between them. But he would try, at least.

And try he did, and eventually, through no small amount of bribery, Eagus loaned him his personal sailcloth and a rather impressive sword and chainmail. He found Link by the plaza and waved the cloth victoriously as he approached. His friend rolled his eyes at his cocky smile as he tucked the cloth in his red belt that lay over his visible chainmail, saying, "Come on, let's go, Ghira." At once, the two Skyloft boys jumped from the platform, arms spread and whistles ringing. Their respective birds swung underneath them and carried them through the now crystal clear sky, towards the tower of green light.

As one, the two jumped from their steeds and fell through the clouds, down to the strange, unknown place below.

Ghirahim, as he fell, arms outstretched, couldn't help but feel like he was going home.

* * *

**Here's where we get to the good stuff. Who will rule the surface now that Ghirahim's been gone, all this time? How did he end up on Skyloft? Does he remember anything of his life before?**

**Ehehehe…**

**Now I'll be starting on Bloodstained. Hopefully both will be updated by tonight, if not, Bloodstained tomorrow. I'll try to set up a normal updating schedule now. Thank you for the review, Robin 1992, I'll do my best. **

**Take my love,**

**-Spirit**


	3. Chapter 3

The first thing Ghirahim noticed was the thick air. It was heavy and rich in his lungs and almost made him dizzy to such a degree he had to bend over with his hands on his knees; Link, too, had to stay still for several minutes and take deep breaths to steady himself. Ghirahim was upright in a few moments, his vision shaking from the descent and the air, but he was gazing around their new surroundings before Link could take his hands from his knees and straighten his spine.

There were many, many trees. More than Ghirahim had ever seen in his entire life, and they seemed to clump together for miles and miles in almost every direction, a mass of green that stretched on forever. He turned and caught a glimpse of a stone building just as Link took a final breath of thick, heady air and grinned slightly.

"Guess we're gunna have to get used this air, huh?" Link sniped, kindly. Ghirahim nodded, looking around again and putting his hand on the pommel of his sword. Something wasn't sitting right in his chest…it was a strange sensation, like a stone of agitation had settled directly between his breasts and wouldn't ease. Somewhere on this strange place beneath the clouds, lying in wait, was someone—or something—that wanted to kill him. He thought that over for a moment, wondering why he was simply concerned for himself, or why this sensation in his chest wasn't parallel to his fears for Link's safety.

(Privately, Ghirahim hadn't been completely honest with Link. Yes, he had certainly wanted to journey to the Surface to aid Link—he was his only friend, after all. But he had a personal reason he would never admit for wanting to see what was beneath the clouds, and that was his own existence. He had to have come from somewhere, and from all the accounts he could scrounge up, he had appeared in the middle of the night and without a single expecting mother that was left without a child. There had been no one to abandon him…if he was not from Skyloft, where was he from? He had to find his story. He had to know. And perhaps someone here, somewhere, had to know who his family was…maybe… maybe they had a reason. They had to have an explicit reason for sending him away, and maybe he could find out. That was why he came here.)

He looked at Link and jerked his head towards the house of stone he could glimpse amongst the trees and near the rim of the strange, spiraling hole in the ground that lay gaping before them. "Looks promising," he said. Link agreed, so they began the trek along the outer edge of the hole, downing the strange carnivorous plants as they spawned. Ghirahim was unimpressed, but Link suffered a small bite on his unprotected arm—he shrugged sheepishly at his friend's sigh. The two dropped down form the ledge towards the building, Ghirahim landing on his feet and Link rolling over his shoulder.

The house of stone towered politely above them, weathered and worn; Link was momentarily reminded of Headmaster Gaepora, the sort of imposing figure that only smiled and chuckled and made fun. Ghirahim spent some time looking over the edge of the pit, trying to see what could ever be at the bottom of it (from here, it looked like a black splinter, but at every glance at it and the scorch marks on the ground around it, an intense spike of an unidentifiable emotion shot through him and made goose bumps cover his grey skin). He looked at it for a moment longer before joining Link in his endeavor to open the stone door that groaned and spat dust like it hadn't been opened in years.

Long after his eyes left that strange black spike, it still remained in his mind, oppressing.

The doors groaned and relented, allowing the two travelers to enter with a world weary sigh. The two glanced at the spilling sun and the weathered stairs, but it was Ghirahim who saw the old woman first. He gently nudged Link, gesturing with his chin towards her while his hand once more strayed to the pommel of his sword. That sensation in his chest only tightened.

Link was less fretful and led the way to the woman and up the many steps leading up to her, while Ghirahim lingered behind in the shadows. She made a strange humming sound upon his approach.

"Ah! Who is this I hear?" The old woman squinted at Link for a long moment before she made that strange hum again.

"My name is Link."

"…Link. Very good. You are the child of fate, there is no doubt." The woman paused and seemed to startle, her braid swinging wildly. "Who accompanies you, Link?"

Link turned to look at his friend, who remained silent and cloaked in the darkness of the house of stone. He gently gestured his friend forward, and only after he had stepped up into the spilling light did he continue. "This is my best friend, Ghirahim."

Before Link had spoken his name, the woman remained still, but once the three syllables had left his lips she seemed to become agitated, like some undesirable bug had crawled into her strange red headdress. She stared at the white haired Skyloftian for many, many moments before her breath came rushing out of her lips in a surprised sort of resignation. Her head bobbed after a moment, as if she had come to terms with whatever shock Ghirahim's name had dealt her.

"And you, Ghirahim…step closer, child, come into the light so I can see you better. Ah, indeed, you both are from the sky…but this was not predestined—"

Before the woman could finish, the light that spilled from the ceiling seemed to darken, and a rumbling overtook the ground. Link staggered while Ghirahim stiffened, glancing around as he automatically came to the balls of his feet. The old woman quickly gestured at Link, and said, "Quick, child—to the bottom of the pit! Strike the black column you see there with a blast of holy light from your sword to stabilize it. Go!"

And Link, obeying and unquestioning Link, nodded tersely and rushed out of the temple the way they had came. Ghirahim went to follow, but the old woman's rickety high voice stopped him. "No! He must go alone."

"Why?" Ghirahim turned, his black eyes narrowed.

"This quest was intended solely for the Chosen Hero and his guide. I'm afraid many of the finer details of this journey will force him to leave you behind, Ghirahim. This is one of those times. Now, tell me, why did you come with him? Why risk yourself on a quest in which you have no predestined part?"

Ghirahim took the first few steps up towards the woman before he answered. "I wanted to go sightseeing," he snarked.

The woman sighed. "You want to know your origins, do you not?"

That made Ghirahim pause, then a wave of anger rise up in him. How did this woman, this bat crazy old coot, know that? Before he could get a word in edgewise, the woman raised her hands to continue without him raising his voice.

"I'm afraid I do not know, Ghirahim. But what I do know is that though you come here under the pretense of helping your friend, you truly come for answers just as faithfully as Link comes for the Spirit Maiden. There is not much I can promise, child, but one thing is certain: you will find answers here. But what I cannot swear is that you will like what you find. Once you step out of these temple's walls, I can't say what your path is, or that whatever dangers you face will be conquerable. Demons of the mind are far more dangerous than any manifested enemy."

Ghirahim stood silent for several long, still moments before he took another step up towards that woman, his eyes unwavering. He spoke in a much calmer, quieter voice than before. "Why does this realm fill me with such unimaginable dread?"

The woman hummed, and her braid swung with a steady cadence. Calming. Certain. Constant. "You may not remember, Ghirahim, but your soul does."

Link came bursting through the door, his face split with a satisfied smile, before Ghirahim could retaliate with another question. "I did it," he said, with a hint of pride in his voice. "What was that thing?"

"It does not concern you now, child. You must continue on your journey, the both of you. Lend me your map, I will show you the direction you must travel to find the Faron Woods…"

The old woman, who failed to offer her name, continued to speak on spirit maidens and destinies, of which Ghirahim ignored in favor for looking up to the grassy ceiling and the stone columns, trying to pinpoint the epicenter of his uncertainty that the woman's words had awakened in him. Link nudged his side to make him look at the map, but he paid only a bit of attention before stepping up on his toes to look behind the old woman, as if to see between the cracks of the doors behind her. He could swear he could see a faint glow of gold…

"Come on, Ghira," Link said, tugging on his elbow. "Let's try to map out these Faron Woods before nightfall."

"You two are welcome back here to rest when the sun sets," the old woman offered, her voice that bizarre humming sound, as soothing as an old lullaby. Link thanked her and set off before his friend, only turning around in time to see the old woman gesture his friend closer and mumble something for his ears only. Ghirahim stepped away after a long moment, looking both confused and suspicious, before putting his hand on his sword and walking purposefully towards Link. Whatever she had said, it didn't seem to stick.

* * *

Link sat back from the fire he had lit in the Sealed Temple, looking warily across at his friend. Ghirahim was acting strange, especially through the deeper regions of the Faron Woods; the Kikwis seemed particularly terrified by him, and he always spent an obscene amount of time staring at the giant tree the woods were centered around, and even longer at the entrance to the Skyview Temple. (They had decided to head back to the Sealed Temple after a long day exploring one their own and saving Kikwis [two of which Ghirahim found but he claimed they began to shrilly scream and wouldn't stop until he left them alone], both agreeing to journey to the temple they had seen in the Deep Faron Woods the next day).

"Are you okay?" Link finally asked, as the flames of the fire leapt up and crackled and bit at their toes.

"Fine," Ghirahim said. He didn't raise his eyes from the fire.

"'Just fine' or 'Dandy fine'?"

"I'm _fine,_ Link," Ghirahim insisted, his black eyes rising to lock onto his friend's for a moment before dropping to the fire again. His long legs were folded and he propped his chin up on his knuckles, looking like he was in deep, concentrated thought.

Link let that slide for a long moment and then readied himself for one of those night long heart-to-hearts he and his friend tended to have on a monthly basis; something or the other would aggravate one of them and the only other person to truly understand their troubles was the other. Though Ghirahim rarely initiated these conversations, he usually threw himself into them with much vigor and passion after the third or fourth prod on Link's part.

"Are you worried about Zelda?"

"Would you rather a lie or the truth?"

Link sighed. "What's got you worried, Ghira? Seriously, I can tell something's bothering you."

Ghirahim didn't speak for a long, long time. The light from the fire danced off of his pale skin, and darkened his black eyes to such a degree they looked like black pits, empty and endless. He eventually lowered his hand and said, "It's nothing. The thick air is getting to my head. I'll be fine in the morning." He turned his back to Link and lay down, resting his head on his balled up undershirt. His chainmail glinted in the firelight, for he was far too paranoid to take it off.

Ghirahim heard Link sigh, but he didn't turn to tell him of his unease. He tried to sleep but ended up staring at the far wall long after he heard his friend fall into a deep, unimpeded slumber.

* * *

"Face it, Link, you're just far too stupid to figure out how to open the door."

"I am not!"

"If you admit it, I'll tell you how."

"I don't need your help!"

"Oh, I think you do. You have no idea how to open the door."

"Neither do you!"

"Please, I could have opened the door ten minutes ago. Instead you were whacking bushes looking for some nonexistent key."

"Do you _know_ how many rupees fell from Skyloft? There were fifty of them just in these bushes!"

"Like they'll do you any good down here!"

"You know what, Ghirahim?"

"What? You gunna nick me with that super-special holy letter opener you call a sword?"

Link scowled before stomping off to re-read the stone tablet near the side of the temple. Ghirahim chuckled to himself, remaining where he stood by the door, arms crossed, foot tapping, and eyes rolling up to the conspicuous bright pink diamond above him.

This was going to be a long day.

* * *

"Oh my _goddess!"_

"What?!"

"Did you _see how big that spider was?!"_

Link laughed.

* * *

"Why is all of this necessary? All this is doing is slowing us down, and making your macho damsel-in-distress quest take longer."

"I don't know," Link puffed, wiping his brow after he hefted yet another door. He grimaced at his dripping tunic, and wrung out his gloves again after the door dropped down behind them. "Why does this entire temple have to be filled with water?" He countered. Ghirahim made a face behind his back.

"At least _you_ didn't have to come face to face with a giant-ass spider."

"You're such a baby," Link laughed.

"At least I don't snore," Ghirahim grumbled, pressing his wet hair to his skull to force the excess water down his neck and soak up on his red undershirt (which was, strangely, overtop his chainmail).

"What was that?"

"Oh, nothing, Princess!" Ghirahim said, chirpily.

Link shot him a dirty look and they trudged on.

* * *

"I told you I could figure that puzzle lock out faster than you."

"You only did 'cause I couldn't reach it, you're so damned tall!"

"Not my problem you're short."

Link glowered. "Come on," he grumbled. "Zelda might be here." He stomped past Ghirahim and began the trek through the dark tunnel that the great big door had protected so viscously. Ghirahim sighed and they descended into the darkness of that strange, giant door. He couldn't help but feel a sort of impending doom as the blackness around him became more and more absolute. _But what I cannot swear is that you will like what you find._

The room they were led to was high domed and spacious, with arches and strange symbols etched onto the floors and walls. As they both stepped further into the room, the door behind them slammed shut and bolted tight, making both of them start. Both Ghirahim and Link would have spent time gazing about the space if it were not for the figure that stood opposite of them, their hand pressed to the glowing golden door, which flared brightly in persistent intervals, pulsing like a heartbeat.

The figure was cloaked in an incredibly long, thick black fabric, which hung about their frame in floods; their head was wrapped in a grey, thinner fabric that draped across their shoulders and hung more so down their back on the right side, precariously set on their raised arm. Link immediately tensed and drew his sword and a particularly violent pulse of white energy from the door, his face setting into his battle mask: harsh, cold and unfeeling.

At the sound of his sword unsheathing, the heartbeat from the door stopped, and the head of the figure turned so agonizingly slow towards them. Their face was completely covered in shadow, with not a chin or slit of skin to be seen beneath the grey headdress.

Ghirahim was paralyzed for several long moments before he too drew his sword; his knuckles were turning white from the strength he gripped his hilt. Link, glancing from the corner of his eye, noticed his lips were pressed tight. No more was the mocking, good natured Ghirahim.

Both of the young men had the impression that the figure draped in black that stood silently before them was smiling.

"What a lovely day for a war."

* * *

**Hello lovelies!**

**Thank you for reading, all follows, favorites and reviews are appreciated (I do love feedback!).**

**Thanks to the reviewers, zgirl16, Griffemon, Robin 1992, and Kida Linh—I hope you all enjoy what I've written and what I have in store. I'm excited to truly introduce my villain next chapter—I've worked hard on them. I even left a clue or two here…ehehehe!**

**Anyhow, thank you all, and I'll be back within the week with a new installment. (As for Bloodstained, I'm writing it all out before posting any more chapters, so it will collect dust for a while, apologies.)**

**Take my love,**

**-Spirit**


	4. Chapter 4

The words hit Ghirahim like a physical blow. Only by sheer force of will did he not fall to his knees, and even then his breath rushed into him in a sharp gasp and his feet moved him back a step. He steeled himself a moment later, his eyes narrowing and sword rising. Link glanced at his friend for a moment and turned back to their opponent, trying to ignore the ominous tone that accompanied their words.

Link and Ghirahim both began to size up the enemy. Ghirahim came to the conclusion that the cloaked figure before them was actually female before Link could. The voice was what gave her away, though it was rough and lilted and rose and fell with an awful scratchy cadence, it was female at its core. Her figure was completely cloaked in the strange, velvet fabric that fell about her in straight lines, so any feminine characteristics were hidden beneath it. No eyes, no lips, no fingernails to determine her sex other than that bizarre voice.

It was mangled, Ghirahim concluded grimly. Her voice had been pinned to the ground and mauled ruthlessly like a lame deer, torn and ragged at the edges and it rose and fell as if it was uncertain where it had truly ever lain before. It was not pretty or even an exotic sort of strange; no, it was a cut throat, ugly, feminine voice that was the product of some viscous, unthinkable torture.

Neither of them spoke. So, instead, the woman before them turned more sedately in their direction, till the gaping hole of blackness where her face had to be hidden in, beneath the grey headdress and meters of fabric, was facing them directly. Her arms were hidden beneath that very fabric, within its folds, along with a possible myriad of weapons; anything from swords to maces could be hidden underneath the miles of cloth. Link readied his drawn sword, the Master Sword, and his eyes narrowed, as if unsure. Unsure of their enemy's motives, of her abilities, of the strength of her convictions. Perhaps she wasn't even a villain.

But that sinister aura of a twisted smile that's seemed to radiate from beneath the intimidating fabric made the two of them think otherwise.

"Tisk, tisk, boy," she said, her voice jumping wildly on the syllables as they rolled from her tongue. Ghirahim cringed at the sound of them. "Draw your sword at me? Why ever so?"

Link did not answer. His angry breathing was the only sound in the wide, domed room.

"Ah," she said. "I understand then you do not speak to strangers. Wise words indeed, Hero. Let me amend this error in your childish judgment and introduce myself. My name is Daemos. I am here for the same reason as you: the Spirit Maiden, who sits just beyond these doors. Why do you not recognize our aligned goals and come to open this dreadful door, and we may keep this exchange peaceful?"

"You seem to be implying it wouldn't be peaceful otherwise," Link murmured, his sword point not rising but not falling, either; instead, he held it in limbo, not friend nor foe, waiting.

"That all depends on you," Daemos said, in that maimed voice. It not sound weakened by the torture that must have twisted it to such a demented form. "Would you like to make this easy, Hero and his companion?"

"We don't work with demons," Ghirahim said, louder than Link and all the harsher to make up for his silence. He had finally found his voice after faced with such a strange and demented figure.

Daemos' head swung towards him, as if she was pivoting to look straight at him beneath her headdress. She did not speak for several long moments. "The companion finally speaks," she muttered. A longer pause still and it sounded as if she was thinking over some grand revelation made by Ghirahim's simple declaration. She continued as if she had never stopped. "What are your names?"

Ghirahim was about to offer a rather obscene and rude rebuttal, but Link shot him a look and replied, in that same wary voice, "My name is Link. His is Ghirahim."

Daemos did not speak for many long, silent moments. She eventually spoke again, but her mangled voice seemed to belie only the smallest hint of shock. "Welcome to my home, Link…Ghirahim. I know of the prophecy that brought you down from the clouds, but I ask of you to respect this place. This land is not the one you know, for she breathes and shifts with the very churnings of the gods chained below the soil and the magma, and she will strike you down at the smallest offense you cause it. I suggest treading with caution…perhaps if you gain favor, she will whisper her secrets to your soul and tell you of even her deepest…darkest…_loneliest_…memories…"

There was a long, dreadful pause after her mangled speech. Ghirahim found the strength within him to start breathing again. He couldn't help but feel she was talking to him.

"Sheathe your sword, Hero," Daemos said, almost scornfully. Her strange, black velvet robes shifted as if she had moved her arms beneath. "I have no desire to try my hand to your holy blade. I have spent too long here, the Spirit Maiden has vanished from this place…how unfortunate. I must continue on. However, before we part ways, I have one last parting gift for your companion, Hero."

There was no possible way to track her movement from one end of the room to the other. She was at the farthest point away from the Skyloftians, and the next second she was directly in front of Ghirahim with not a whisper or spell, the teleportation devoid of sound and effort. Link didn't have even the split second to react to the sudden change before Daemos' hand slid through the thick cloth and gently touched Ghirahim's forehead.

It was as soft as a caress, a gentle kiss from her scarred flesh, the smallest of strokes on his skin from her curved, bird-of-prey talons. And that tiny, infinitesimal touch had the most explosive, shocking reaction from the white haired boy.

Link watched in horror as he stumbled back from her sudden appearance. Ghirahim, the very instant he was touched, threw back his head and arched his spine to let out the most blood curdling, high pitched scream Link had ever heard. His body was arched so dramatically that he was balanced on his tiptoes, legs curved with the convex shape his torso and sinewy neck took form into. His mouth was let open to let loose this scream that rang and rang from the prolonged exposure to Daemos' skin, and that strange white magic pulsed from the point their skin touched. It ricocheted and bounced all around, but it centered from hat single point on Ghirahim's forehead. Every muscle in his body was pulled tight, to such a degree that his sword clattered to the ground as his hands contorted into a clawed, mangled state at his sides. He seemed to be in undeniable agony as his scream was torn from him, in such an unbridled fashion, one that startled Link senseless for several long, disastrous seconds.

But Link was a soldier, and he reacted to this strange attack after those dreadful seconds with vengeful vigor. He raised his sword and jumped, bringing the blade down with full intention to chop of that vexing woman's arm. Just as the blade nicked her flesh, Daemos disappeared around the blade and vanished like the smoke of a snuffed candle.

The room lightened after her presence faded. Ghirahim's scream was suddenly, painfully cut off as he crumpled to the ground, no longer supported on his toes. His muscles loosened and quivered as he lay in a heap on the ground, clutching his head and trying, desperately, to disguise his sobs.

Link threw himself to the ground and didn't quite know where to put his arms around his friend, as he was in a messy, trembling ball with his head tucked between his arms and his fingers clutching at the sides of his head. He was sobbing out several words that Link couldn't quite decipher, fingernails digging into his scalp so hard they bled, his voice rising to a scream of torment whenever the pain seemed to overcome him in unpredictable waves.

It took an undeterminable amount of time to coax Ghirahim from his crumpled state and up to his knees, his head hanging and his breath coming in spurts and gasps between his fading sobs. Link managed to tear his hands from his scalp without causing any more damage than just the superficial, and instead held his friend's head for him. He put their foreheads together, touching where _she_ had, as if to replace the tainted touch with his own, the touch of a friend, of love, of good memories. Link held them like that for several more minutes, during which Ghirahim reached up to grasp at Link's elbows. His eyes stayed resolutely shut until he could regulate his breathing, and only after every trace of agony was erased from his deep breaths did he allow his eyes to flutter open and meet the worried blue of Link's eyes.

Link spoke softly. "Are you okay?"

Ghirahim considered lying. "No," he whispered.

"What did she do to you?"

Again, the temptation was strong, but now Ghirahim was weak. "I don't know. I…I don't know."

Link stayed silent for another minute or so before he murmured once more, in the space between their mouths, the space reserved for only the two of them. "What do you need?"

Ghirahim let out a soft sigh, his eyes fluttering shut again. His head hurt. His hand slipped from Link's elbow and rested on his quivering thigh. He let his forehead rest more fully on his friend's. "I need to tear her goddamned heart out."

Link, who knew Ghirahim better than anyone, gently murmured his agreement. While he forgave and forgot, Ghirahim needed revenge. He needed that satisfaction. And Link understood.

"Alright," he whispered, pressed their heads just that much closer. Intimate. "Alright."

Zelda was not there whenever the two slowly inched their way to the spring, after Ghirahim had regained his fled strength. Ghirahim sat on the stone as Link continued on, silently, and the white haired boy held his pounding head. He could barely think over the onslaught of _bad_ in his mind that swirled and churned and made every inch of him feel wrong. He didn't know what to do, what to think, what to feel…he just knew, as he closed his eyes and leaned back against the stone wall, that whatever Daemos had done to him, it made him bad. Ghirahim flinched, rather dramatically, as the dark thoughts once again rung through his mind and a chuckle darkly echoed in his ears.

He didn't hear Link converse with the spirit within his sword. He didn't actually hear much at all.

Ghirahim couldn't hear much above the screams ringing in his ear, and that awful, maniacal laughter. All he could hear were the screams. All he could see, behind his eyelids, was flashes of blood and flashes of black.

He pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes and tried not to break.

* * *

Being off of the surface did not help. Ghirahim tossed and turned in his own bed until morning, unable to sleep because of the laughter and the way his teeth would bare in a feral grin subconsciously whenever he began to doze. He ground his palms into his eyes in an effort to make the thoughts go away.

Near dawn, just before the light broke over the cloud barrier, now torn with holes, he had a sudden revelation. Ghirahim couldn't get rid of those dark designs and the chuckling because he couldn't rid himself of his own thoughts.

He tried to figure what Daemos had done to him. When she had touched him, it had felt like she was ripping apart his very being, driving a wedge deeper and deeper into his subconscious until he had had nothing left, no thoughts left unwatched and no memory left unscathed. But she had not only torn him apart; she had driven some dark seed into him, into his mind, so that it burned with each glance and throbbed with each thought. It fed him dark thoughts and offered him salty memories, bitter memories, ones that certainly were not true. Memories of a tall, white haired creature with a feral grin and wild eyes, which beneath the left one, a black diamond was imprinted. _Could this creature be my f__ather?_

He flinched when Link opened the door. It sounded like the whimper the universe would utter when it ended.

_I don't feel well,_ he wanted to say. He hadn't slept a wink. He was on the very brink of even more potent self-loathing than he had ever been faced with before and that didn't feel well in any sense of the words. _I don't want to go,_ he thought of saying. It wouldn't be a lie, not really. _Please leave me be,_ he wanted to cry. Link would dote but eventually would leave him, and it would be bliss, even if he would be alone with whatever Daemos had left in him. _I don't want to know anymore!_ He craved to scream. He wanted to shout that at the old woman in the sealed temple, far below, wanting to beg her why she did not stop him.

"I'll meet you at the plaza," Ghirahim said instead. His head hurt.

* * *

**Ah, lovelies, what a time it's been. I needed to be in the right frame of mind to write this one up, Daemos needed a proper entrance and all. What do you all think of her? What do you think her intentions are? And what in the hell did she do to Ghirahim?**

**Alas, tis not my place to answer quite yet. It shall be revealed soon enough. I hope you all enjoy, and I thank each one of my reviewers, followers, and favoriters out there. Thank you for the reviews, zgirl16, Kida Linh, Herooftwilight, and Kitsune! Apologies for any typos or discontinuities.**

**As for Daemos, I do have intentions of revealing more of her physical appearance as the story progresses. She has much of a backstory and some qualities you may not expect, so watch out for her! I'd like to know what you think of her, you have no idea how tempted I was to use Mihra again (for those Bloodstained readers out there), but my sanity prevailed. Hopefully Daemos will be as popular and accepted as Mihra (however grudgingly).**

**See you on the other side, and take my love until then.**

**-Spirit**


	5. Chapter 5

Eldin proved to be much less pervasive than Faron. Though the hot, thick air nauseated Ghirahim and forced Link to sit from lightheadedness, the surroundings didn't stir up any more dark sensations in the former's gut. Though he still felt…_wrong,_ Eldin was sort of comforting, in the sense that whenever he got too close to the magma he could actually feel his skin burn, and that was better than feeling the darkness that had been eating away inside of him. The physical burn of jumping and running and fighting kept the sensations at bay, and even Link was put off by the intensity with which he attacked this mission to the top of the volcano.

When the two stumbled on the Mogmas, Link was about to engage in a friendly conversation with them when one of them began to tremble and then shriek rather shrilly at the sight of Ghirahim. Before Link could get a word in edgewise, the two rapidly turned tail and vanished into their respective holes in the ground and disappeared. Ghirahim looked angrily confused.

"What did I do?"

"Dunno," Link said, contemplatively. He stilled for a moment (there was that sound again—the high pitched bells! Ghirahim looked around but couldn't figure where it came from) before turning to look more fully at his friend.

"Look, Ghira," he started, carefully. "I don't know what's going on with you or why you're so on edge, but…yesterday, when we met Daemos—" Link didn't fail to notice that Ghirahim's face seemed to tighten at the name, "she did that crazy thing to you. What happened?"

Ghirahim scuffed a rock over the edge and it plopped down into the magma. He looked back up at Link and thought about telling him to piss off 'cause it wasn't any of his business, but remembered that Link was his friend and he actually cared if Ghirahim was okay. Ugh, _feelings. _"I don't know. She just touched me and it really hurt. I'm fine now, though."

"I think it did more than just 'really hurt'. You were screaming for ages."

Ghirahim glared. "How about you try it and then you can have a freaking opinion on how much it hurt."

Link metaphorically backed off and raised his hands in a placating gesture. "Sorry. I'm just worried, you know. I don't want you to get hurt, is all. Guess I ready failed in that aspect though."

Ghirahim sighed loudly, annoyed that Link was turning the guilt towards him and making him feel worse than he already was. He rubbed his face and turned more fully towards Link and said, "It's not your job to look after me, Link. Just…stop trying to, okay? If I get hurt it's on me. So stop worrying and asking if I'm okay, cause I'm going to be fine no matter what. That bitch hurt me, yeah, I'll give you that, but how much and in what ways are my problems, not yours. You just worry about saving your goddamned useless _girlfriend_ and stop doting on me!"

Link furrowed his brow slightly as Ghirahim bared his teeth at the end of his mini rant, and he quietly sighed. "I know you don't care for Zelda like I do," he said, softly. "But if it was me that fell, would you be down here with Zelda to find me?"

"So now you think our relationship is just like mine and Zelda's? Do I mean _that_ little to you?"

"That's not what I meant, and you know it," Link said, firmly. "Ghirahim, you're literally the only one I can talk to about anything, and you're my best friend. I wouldn't be the same if I didn't have you here, and I probably wouldn't be this far along if you didn't come with me. I know you came here to help me even though you don't care for Zelda, and I appreciate that. I just want to make sure you're _okay _before we go on, 'cause I want to make sure I don't lose my best friend while trying to save another friend."

Ghirahim growled, but it was more in anger towards himself and the situation than at Link himself. The other boy continued onto a topic that had been bugging him since the previous day.

"Look, yesterday, you said we don't work with demons whenever we encountered Daemos…just, how did you know she was a demon?"

Ghirahim stilled. He frowned and his brows knotted for a moment. He shrugged carelessly after a long, tense moment.

"What else would she be?" Ghirahim ended that conversation by turning his back to Link and starting down the path towards the magma stepping stones. Link sighed and followed after, briefly contemplating the notion that Ghirahim knew more than he was letting on.

* * *

"We can bully people into giving them their things, Ghirahim!"

"That mogma _did_ say he had a bomb bag," Ghirahim grumbled. "Maybe if he stopped shrieking we could have gotten close enough to grab it."

Link huffed. "Why are all the locals screaming at you, anyways? First the Kikwis and now the Mogmas."

"They're overwhelmed by my sheer beauty and stunning physique and can't contain their joy."

Link rolled his eyes.

* * *

"How're we supposed to get over there? The bridge is out."

"I dunno," Link said, squinting his eyes and standing on tiptoe in an attempt to see what Ghirahim was talking about. He knew the temple was ahead of them, across the sea of magma, but he wasn't quite tall enough to see over the rock face that barred the way. They had just flown out of the top of the inactive volcano and couldn't quite see the bridge past the wall of stone in the path to the temple. Ghirahim could jump to see, but only when he ran halfway up to the wall and lunged up. "Are you sure it's completely out?"

"Think so."

"Here, let me climb on your shoulders, I can see clearer that way."

"Woah, wait, why can't I climb on yours?"

"One, you're taller than me. Two, I weigh less than you. Three, I said so first. Now bend down, I can't jump up on your shoulders, can I?"

"No way, we're throwing evens."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously."

Link groaned. The two boys faced each other and held out their hands, palm up, with a balled fist cupped in it. They hit their fits three times to their palms and simultaneously formed a number with their fingers. Ghirahim threw a two, and Link a five. Ghirahim cursed. Since the sum of their numbers was odd, Ghirahim lost, as he was the one that challenged Link—and the challenger always needs an even number to win. Link looked smug.

"Happy now?"

"Shut up," Ghirahim grumbled, going down to one knee and lowering his head so Link could straddle his shoulders. He gripped Link's thighs and laboriously stood, nearly overbalancing with Link perched high above him, legs tight around his neck.

"You're such a liar," Ghirahim grunted, as he slowly stumbled towards the rock wall. "You are _so_ much heavier than me."

"It's all water weight," Link sniped, putting a hand to the top of the rock wall. "I still can't see. I need to stand up. Hold still."

"We never agreed to that!" Ghirahim yelped, but Link was already pulling up his feet to place the arch on the curve of Ghirahim's shoulders and stand unsteadily to see. Ghirahim cursed and groaned and held onto Link's ankles with a snarling lip, baring his sharpened canines. Link's head peaked a good two feet over the rocks now, and he looked for a good long while before he nodded and went back down to sit on his friend's shoulders until he went back down to his knees to let Link off.

"Yeah," Link said. "The bridge is out."

* * *

Ghirahim was riffling through a small, crude hut when Link came rushing towards him. "Ghirahim! Somebody just set the bridge out for us!"

"What?!" He stood and followed Link out to see that, in fact, the bridge was now firmly in place. Ghirahim narrowed his eyes.

"Who was it?" he asked suspiciously.

"Dunno," Link said, looked excited at the prospect of another possible ally. "But whoever they were, they could jump across this gap and opened up the way for us. I think we can safely say they're on our side!"

"Or maybe they're leading us into a trap," Ghirahim said, calculating the distances in his mind and frowning at the results. No creature should be able to make such a jump.

"Stop being so pessimistic," Link ordered, lightly hitting Ghirahim in the arm. "This could be a break for us."

"Doubt it," Ghirahim mumbled as Link trotted across the bridge like a victor would the winner's circle.

* * *

"Seriously, more running up sand hills?"

* * *

"So you're saying your sword can pick up the type of metal that the key is made of? And one is down the way we just came up?"

"Yeah."

They looked at each other. Ghirahim put a hand to his chest, and both agreed he was challenging. Both put out their hands, threw them up and down thrice, and formed a number on their hands. Their sum was even. Ghirahim smirked.

Link glowered. "Shut up."

* * *

"Goddess, how are we supposed to balance on this thing? It's just a giant eye floating in boiling magma!"

"What, you going to freak out now?"

"Remember the last time I tried to balance on something?"

Link pursed his lips and nodded. "Yeah…I'll go ahead and fashion some way to get you across. Sit tight."

* * *

"What's with running up really steep slopes in this place?"

"Dunno," Link gasped out, bending over his knees to catch his breath. Ghirahim waited from him to rush out of the cubby hole to get to the top of this particular slope. Ghirahim followed with nimble steps and was breathing softer than Link when they recuperated. Ghirahim took the time to look around, taking in the stone dragon head vomiting magma in front of the locked door and the long, winding stone path to their left. Ghirahim trotted forward to examine that path while Link took some time to stare at a statue of a bird that seemed to be littered across the surface and throughout the temples.

"Come on," Ghirahim said, gesturing with his chin towards the long path upwards. "They're might be a lever or something to stopper the flow so we can get passed."

"Don't we need the key, too?"

"Maybe it's up there."

The two kept a moderate pace while traversing the winding path on the left, and Ghirahim noticed that it wasn't quite flat, but more inwardly rounded in the center. As Link shouted victoriously when he found the main key at the top, Ghirahim knelt down to examine the curvature. Link jogged next to him, and they both tensed with the sudden rumbling and shaking from behind them. Ghirahim looked back in time to see another dragon's maw open wide and a giant stone ball fall down from it…just to line up with the groove on the path they had just climbed up.

"Damn it," Ghirahim said. He rose to his feet and rushed after Link, who had begun to run down the path towards the central platform. They both made it (Ghirahim a few strides behind Link) in time to jump down and out of its roaring path, but when Ghirahim landed he didn't quite get up right away.

Link rolled right up, watching with an open mouth as the stone rumbled towards the waterfall of magma and stemmed the flow by clogging the dragon's throat, freeing the way for them. Link laughed and clapped his hands somewhat breathlessly, smacking his knee as he said, "Ghira, did you see that?"

He turned, expecting to see his friend dusting off his chainmail and rolling his eyes, but instead saw him on his side, gripping his right knee with a snarl on his face and a string of foreign curses falling from his twisted lips. He growled slightly when Link approached, and had to take several moments of cursing and groaning to speak clearly.

"What happened?" Link asked, his eyes wide with both fear and confusion.

"My goddamned leg is broken," his friend hissed, his teeth bared.

"Can you walk?" Ghirahim contemplated this for no less than a second before he shook his head. Link looked over the injured leg and winced, saying, "You need to get back to Skyloft so Owlan can set this. But…"

Ghirahim narrowed his eyes when he saw Link turn back towards the still locked door tantalizingly close to him. He hissed, "And now is when you have to choose between your two _friends._"

Link looked back at him, looking hurt. "I'm not choosing between you two," he defended. "But we came here to help Zelda, and who knows what might be in there with her?"

Ghirahim rolled his eyes and gripped his broken leg harder, swatting at Link's searching hands. "Just go," he spat. He pushed Link more fully away until he fell back onto his backside. "You'll always choose _her._"

Link looked hurt as he stood and said, softly, "I promise, I'll be right back." He turned and opened the door, vanishing into it with an ominous boom. Ghirahim forced himself up to a sitting position and growled, wincing and cursing at the pain from his broken bone. It radiated pain up from the fracture ever few seconds, and made the tips of his toes tingle nervously. He felt a nestle of hurt in his chest, alongside the blackness he hadn't been able to shake since his encounter with Daemos. He hated how it made him so much angrier, so much more volatile than he had ever been, but what was worse that he felt no regret for snapping at his friend or putting him in this situation. He only felt the abandonment in his chest, along with a burning hate that he didn't quite know who it was directed to.

He sat in that hot room for who knows how long, before he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up on edge. He looked around, gripping his injured leg and baring his teeth, looking quite feral through the loose strands of his singed and dirty hair.

Ghirahim stared when he watched a tall, elegant figure emerge from the shadows. The familiar grey headdress sent a bolt of chill and fear up his spine, but his eyes narrowed and he snarled like a wounded animal at her approach. Daemos stilled, standing in the shifting light of the magma.

She was different this time around. The long, thick cloak she had worn before was absent, but the headdress hid her entire face and head from view. Her body was tall and curved, with strange brownish rattlesnake ridges that ran from the column of her throat, down her chest, over each shoulder and down each arm and along the fronts of her legs to the tops of her clawed, reptilian feet. Her skin was a deep, dark red, like the color of rosewood, or of burgundy. It was scarred in random places, like the creases of her elbows or the muscled lines of her calves. On a thick black string around her neck was a crystal, about the length of Ghirahim's middle finger and as thick as two. Around her midsection was a white and black cloth that was finely stitched together to run a line down her center, and curved down to her knees and wrapped around each side to connect in the back. A belt with a strange emblem wrapped around her hips. A tail tipped with a blackish blade twitched at her side.

What Ghirahim only later noticed was her hands, which was clasped in her front, were clawed with an extra thumb on the inside of her forearm, near her wrist. On each palm was a strange, ovular shape drawn in black lines.

Daemos tipped her head to the side. It didn't dislodge the headdress. "You are hurt," she said, softly. Her voice was quieter and more enunciated, but it still swooned and crumbled on the sharper sounds.

"I can still hurt you if you get any closer," Ghirahim threatened, his face a mask of primal instinct.

Daemos seemed to contemplate that. "I bet you could," she agreed, softly. There was silence for a long moment before she murmured, "Your friend left you here, alone. Should he not be protecting his wounded companion?"

"He went to protect Zelda from _you!_" Ghirahim found himself wildly defending Link's actions to this demon, despite not believing any of the words he was shouting.

The female demon before him shook her head, slowly. "I intend the Spirit Maiden no harm," she whispered. "I do see why he went onwards, but without tending to you? I find it strange."

Ghirahim growled. "I intend you harm."

Daemos sighed, softly. She took a few slow steps towards the wounded boy, carefully laying her talon feet on the stone, as if she was testing its stability before setting her full weight down. "I apologize for the harm I caused you in our last encounter. It was a necessary evil, as the barriers of your mind were as thick as stone."

"Barriers? What _barriers_?"

"Now is not the time," Daemos whispered. "Your friend is quickly besting the guardian that resides beyond that door. He will encounter the Spirit Maiden but she will slip from her grasp, and he will be left wounded by…Zelda's companion. You are his friend, Ghirahim, even if he did abandon you here. Oh, do you ever stop to wonder who the Hero's companion is? You were not destined to be at his side…he must have a guide." As she finished this strange prediction and question, she was within spitting distance of Ghirahim's tightened form. Her voice despite the rickety and coarse sound was somewhat soothing. He didn't lunge when she carefully reached out to touch him, and maneuvered her body to crouch in front of him. Her face was indiscernible beneath the headdress.

"Ghirahim," she murmured. "Did you ever stop to think that perhaps we are fighting the same battle, for the same side?"

"You're a demon," Ghirahim snapped. "You have no reason to fight for the Goddess."

Daemos shook her head slowly and deliberately. Up close, her head seemed deformed and rounded at some points, as if she had horns or a severe cranial deformity. "My motives are my own, but they align with yours," she breathed. "I am not your enemy, Ghirahim. There is a greater darkness, lurking here. I know you can feel it…I know you can tell it is not me that has your senses on edge and that darkness in your gut roiling."

Ghirahim's breath came harder, and he felt panicked. "It has to be you," he croaked. The soothing, soft crackle of her voice had almost lowered his, like he felt rude to raise it above the whisper Daemos spoke with. He gripped his broken leg harder and tried to lean away from the demon in front of him.

Daemos shook her head. "You know it is not."

"Then why did you break into my mind like that, if you're not my enemy? Why did you do that to me? Why did you make me feel _wrong_?"

"I was under the impression you were blinded," Daemos whispered. "Your mind blocked, your magic lessened—"

"Magic? I can't do magic! What are you going on about?" Ghirahim's voice rose in a sort of panicked cry.

Daemos seemed to still. She stayed quiet for many moments before she spoke again, in that deformed murmur. "Ghirahim, how old are you?"

Ghirahim stared suspiciously before he snapped, "I'm seventeen."

Daemos seemed to let out a breath she had been holding deep in her chest. Her voice was pained when she continued. "Seventeen," she echoed. "I am sorry. I did not know. I…Ghirahim, you must know that I will not hurt you. You do not remember me…I…"

She reached out, slowly, giving him time to react, and he jerked back slightly, so she stilled her hand as if she was waiting for permission. He frowned when her claw gently grazed his temple, and then the claw retracted only slightly so she could barely graze the skin on his cheek and the corners of his lips with the pad of her finger, as if she was mapping out the contours of his face. He stayed absolutely still until she whispered, "Ghirahim. Oh, Ghirahim…"

Neither spoke as she retracted her hand. She then carefully reached out to touch his hand, which still gripped his broken leg. He hissed and tried to jerk away, but she had a grip on his ankle and hand. A spike of tingling pain shot down his leg, and he threw back his head to groan. Rather suddenly, the pain transformed from that deep ache to a relaxing sensation, and the pain of his fracture ceased. He stared at his leg and then at the demon across from him.

"I hate for you to be in pain," she whispered. "Your Hero needs you. I…we will meet again, Ghirahim. Until then…" Before she left, she reached out to gently touch his forehead. He jerked violently at the touch, expecting that lightning quick agony, but instead was offered a strange vision that blossomed in front of his eyes and filled his entire mind with its enormity. It was a figure of red who stood on a black stone outcrop, arms outstretched before a wild, whirling tempest and that maniacal laughter ringing in his ears, but it did not belong to him…

When the image cleared, Daemos was gone. Ghirahim looked around and was unsure whether to be relieved or disappointed. His feelings were conflicting…Daemos had healed his leg, but she had broken the floodgate in his mind. She was a demon, yet she understood him. She had mentioned he did not remember her, and had seemed letdown at the knowledge of his age.

How did she know him? Why did she care?

Ghirahim shook his aching head, slowly stood, and made his way towards the unlocked door.

Within, Link was making his way back towards him, looking let down and heavily burned. At the sight of Ghirahim, he started.

"Your leg!"

"Yeah," Ghirahim said, making a show of a slight limp. "Found some extra heart potion in my pouch. I'll be fine after a good nap."

* * *

**Apologies for the wait. Had a con this past weekend, and finally cracked down to finish this chapter off. I read and appreciate all the reviews—Daemos' relationship to Ghirahim will be revealed relatively soon. I'm sorry if the temple runs seem rushed, but I'm assuming we've all played the game, and relating every detail would be tedious for both me and you, the reader. It'll start to change the more Ghirahim learns and starts to diverge from Link's path to create his own.**

**Thank you zgirl16, Griffemon, Robin 1992, and Kida Linh, and all the new followers and favoriters. **

**Take my love,**

**-S**


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